


Orders Are More Like Guidelines, Really

by Rennfri



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Multi, Old Lore, lux needs years of therapy, not helpless fanservice lux, pre-league
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:31:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennfri/pseuds/Rennfri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you really think Lux could spend so many years as a spy without meeting any of her future league opponents? Of course not! So, with a little artistic license, here's a mostly old-canon based AU in which Lux's adventures as an infiltrator bring her to Noxus, Ionia, and Zaun, at least. I'll have new champs featured in every chapter, so feel free to request one and I'll see if I can work them in!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ekko

There was a thick, heady scent in the air and clouds of blue and gray smoke billowed densely against the ceiling. Even after refusing one of the strange, glowing things the Zaunites passed around like cigarettes, Lux felt lightheaded and floaty from the smog that filled the room. She could almost forget what had brought her here.

What was a Demacian doing in Zaun, anyway? So far, no one had even second-guessed her identity. Getting in had been a joke. A state without firm governance couldn't expect to protect its borders, and Lux doubted she was the only infiltrator on this block, let alone within the city.

She was supposed to be getting ahold of a particularly elusive bit of tech- "by any means necessary", they'd said, so here she was. (Well, within reason. They weren't _Noxian_. They never really meant ‘by any means’; that had been her first lesson.)

And so, Lux had been to enough parties in the last two weeks to make up for every year of college Demacia had taken from her. Tonight, she thought it might finally pay off.

"Hey! Helloooo, Runeterra to Lila, you there?" Somebody had thrown an arm over her shoulders. Lux blinked at the slim, dark-skinned boy, still dazed from the smoke. "Are you always such an airhead, or am I boring you?" He made a playful, pouty face and Lux giggled. He couldn't have been older than fourteen, but carried himself with all the swagger of an accomplished techmaturgist- and, well. That was fair.

" _Noooo_." She drew the word out and pursed her lips, painted bubblegum-pink, "You're not boring, I'm just thinking."

"You do too much of that," He grinned from ear to ear and shook her by the shoulders. "You know, you make this weird face when you're thinking, like some-"

"Hey, um, Ekko?" One of the younger kids, barely as tall as the couch they were sprawled on, leaned up to tap her target on the shoulder.

"Ajuna! Hey, hey! You’ve met Lila, right?" Ekko was nearly manic with excitement and Lux tried to turn, twisting until she was sitting on his lap. She giggled harmlessly, leaning her chin against his shoulder to look at Ajuna. "Hiya."

"...Hi. Are you guys, uh…?" He looked a little sheepish, as if he'd walked in on something he shouldn't have.

" _Best_ friends? Oh yeah. But not like you and me, 'Juna, don't worry." He held out a fist and, apparently recognizing the gesture, the younger child tapped his knuckles to it with a grin. ( _Fascinating_.)

The room was getting noisier, Lux noticed absently, even as the smoke had begun to filter out. 

"So did you get the stuff?"

"Mmhm. Well, Vi got it, me 'n Jinx just brought it here." Ajuna smiled sheepishly again, holding something with both hands behind his back.

(The two older girls were somewhere off by the door, chatting with a growing crowd of teens and passing something shiny around the group.)

"Well hand it over!"

That would have sounded very rude where Lux came from, but people hardly seemed to use 'please' or 'thank you' in Zaun. They barely even asked for things. Instead, friendly inflections and bold-faced grins were meant to their message clear. The younger child tossed a tiny jar gladly into Ekko's palm.

Lux peered at it skeptically, still couched in the inventor's lap. He wound his arms around her to open the jar, squeezing her playfully, and quickly kissed her cheek before he twisted off the cap. Lux blushed (something she didn't have to fake- she hadn't actually been kissed, before leaving Demacia) and slid onto the couch beside him when he pulled back his arms.

"Aww, don't get all shy on me. C'mere, I'll do you first." He winked in a way that a fourteen year old shouldn't have, and Lux thought absently that she might have not caught the joke, a year ago.

"I dunno, Ekko..."

"C'mon, nobody died from it yet! ... And if you did, I'd turn it back. Promise." Oh, right. The reason she was here.

Lux wasn't worried about a bad trip, she wanted to be clear for the _mission_!

(...but refusing might just as easily jeopardize it, and it did look really cool...)

"Okay! Okay. Just a little." She looked shyly through her lashes at him in a way she hoped wouldn't look practice, and stuck her arm out nervously. He reached with two fingers into the little jar and took her hand into his, massaging it into her palm as if it were a lotion. It glowed faintly as it dissolved into her skin and Lux felt instantly lightheaded, simultaneously watching and trying to unravel the effects.

Was there magic in this? It was definitely toxic... What would constitute a safe dose?

"You've got to be kidding me! You're thinking too hard again, doofus." Lux glanced away from her own hands and found herself staring through a haze of blue at Ekko, colors hanging in the air like the fireworks she'd seen over Piltover, her first trip there.

"Wow, you really are a lightweight, huh?" As he let her go to rub the same strange mixture on his arms, her hand fell into her lap. She felt a very sudden wave of loss, as if he'd slapped her instead of pulling away.

"Ekko, wait..." She felt a sob rise in her throat for apparently no reason and reached for him again. His features lit with shock and golden lights crackled around his head _(gold, gold and blue, like home, why couldn't she go home?)_ as the aura around Lux turned purple.

"Hey, hey! It's okay, it's just the shimmer, it does that sometimes. I promise." He took her hand in both of his, hope leading first in his expression and then manifesting as green bolts beside his ears. He pulled her in until the strange dancing lights turned pink and she rested her chin against his shoulder, nevermind the ridiculous, bulky earrings that had come with her disguise. "Shh. C'mere. If you start crying, they'll never let you live it down." He whispered, laughing breathily into her ear. She closed her eyes against the blur of colors and felt his pulse against her chest, an entirely unfamiliar euphoria setting in.

For the first time since she'd left Demacia, she actually felt happy.

Sure, it was a drug-induced, synthetic kind of happy, but who could tell the difference in this town?

* * *

They came back to earth slowly, the last of the party to disburse. Lux had fallen asleep with her lips on the Zaunite boy's collar and, when she pulled back, was embarrassed to find a little drool. He woke like a dog, all but leaping off the couch as if he hadn't earned the same vicious headache that Lux had. Maybe it was a tolerance thing? Or maybe he was always so energetic.

Lux, for one, was ready to curl back up on the spot. But she was running short on time- falling asleep hadn't been part of the plan- and if she didn't check in by noon, her handler would think something had happened.

He was belting the target device over his shoulder again, having left it beside him on the couch before they fell asleep. Lux glanced around the room, masking focus with a lazy yawn. "You in some kinda rush?" She slurred the words deliberately, slowly sitting herself up straight. She couldn't afford to spook him now.

"Yeah- I gotta catch up with Ajuna. He's always getting into trouble without me." Ekko grinned again and broke eye contact to do up the buckle.

He really was charming- he'd do so well if she could bring him home. Have him schooled properly, raised in a good home…

"It doesn't really look like he's the one in trouble, now, though."

"Huh?"

She'd barely given Ekko enough time to look back up. The gun she leveled at his chest had been made here. She hadn't dropped her accent. She wasn't supposed to be a Demacian spy:  just another no-good, Zaunite thief. Just like all the others in this city. Right? Right.

"It's okay, you can go." Lux tilted her head towards the door, tight, synthetic curls (a pain to do up for this gig, but very "in" this year) bouncing almost comically with the motion. "Just leave the tech, and I'll let you go."

"Woah, Lila... c'mon, you don't even know how to use it." He put on a placating tone, holding his hands out in front of him as if he were approaching a wild thing.

She sort of felt like a wild thing. 

"I don't need to know to hock it, pretty boy." It was tough to force the insult through her teeth, but she managed, all for show. She was so damn close...

"You really think I'm pretty?"

For a second, Lux wasn’t sure how to respond. Ekko slapped one hand against the dial on his glove. Lux shot, just once, and her ears started to ring. She watched blood drip through his shirt and then- nothing. No blood, no gunshot, she had seen it but _not_ seen it. It had never happened, but it had, she knew it had, and she was staring dumbfounded at a hole in the wall as the Zaun boy's heel shot out the door.

A month undercover down the drain.

The Demacians were never going to believe this.

* * *

 

"You wouldn't have believed it if you'd seen it, Audric. He was there- I shot him, even, can you believe it? I actually shot someone- and then-- poof! Like it never happened! I've never seen magic like it! Isn't that the most amazing thing you've ever heard?"

Lux was pacing around the small, midlevel apartment, shedding pieces of her disguise as she went. An earring flew here, one clipped in extension there. Her hair was losing bulk by the second.

"...you weren't able to retrieve the device, I take it." Her handler was a short, unremarkable man. Perfect in a spy, really. He sounded weary, as if he'd been up all night to wait for her.

And that was fair. After all, he had.

"Well- well, no, not exactly. I'm _sure_ I could have gotten it with magic, but I know that wasn't authorized, and I really did think the gun would be enough." She pulled a lone, ripped-up glove off her left hand (unmanicured for this particular event) and tossed it on the counter. With a sniff of disgust, Audric brushed it into a drawer.

"We've been through this before, Lux- if you aren't sure, simply ask. It would save so much time-"

"I was sure!" The mage frowned. "How was I supposed to know he could walk away from a loaded gun?" She challenged.

"...This would have been an instance where I might have encouraged you to make chase."

"So I could get a million people involved in a street fight in the middle of the morning?"

Audric sighed heavily, "I am not trying to start an argument with you, Luxanna... What is that on your hand?"

She was sliding several salvaged metal rings off her fingers when he asked. She stopped abruptly.

"...the rings?"

He looked suspicious. "Come here."

Lux glanced sheepishly at Audric and he began to tap his foot. Like a petulant child (not far off- she'd barely turned 14), she trudged across the room.

"Let me see that..." Lux braced herself. "Were you high?!"

His grip on her wrist loosened abruptly as he avoided touching the still… _shimmering_ substance on her palm.

"It was for the _mission_." She mumbled sheepishly, still feeling very much like she'd been caught doing wrong.

"When? Before you think you shot the boy?"

"What? No! I wasn't- that isn't fair, Audric, I know what happened." Her face turned red. "That was hours before, I swear!”

She was right.

The Demacians  _were_ never going to believe this.


	2. Noxians (Round I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talon, Swain, and Darius. Did I mention Swain? You're going to be seeing a lot of Swain.

Lux looked down, pretending to make a note in the planner on her desk. It was bound in black leather, well-loved by the dozens of hands to touch it before hers, and small enough to be tucked into a suit pocket or held in one hand. Small enough that any writing in the pages couldn't be read over one's shoulder and, _oh_ , the magic that emanated from it... It was an enticing little spell, one she committed to memory upon grasping the book but never had repeated in this city. She couldn't risk anything this time; her cover was paper-thin. She was too close, far too close.

Lux was sitting in the High Command and she found reasons to avert her eyes from each General that passed by her open door, strategically making phone calls and taking notes to convey respect without appearing weak. It would be weak to show fear of her superiors. It was a death sentence to be arrogant enough to meet their eyes.

She had been walking that tightrope for weeks and it had finally started to pay off.

No high ranking official in Noxus wanted to do their own work. Lux was fifteen- strictly organized from her training in the military, quick-witted and tactful from two years as a spy… and still hopelessly out of her depth.

She hadn't actually been assigned to this position. Her task in Noxus had felt worthless before- there was an invasion across the sea, people dying in droves, real _work_ to be done, and there she was, sent to track letters. Handed a practically useless job as a courier. Close enough to know that important work was being done just outside her reach and being told that it would be too dangerous to maintain a cover within the High Command itself. It simply "wasn’t done."

Well, she had shown them! One particular General had made himself known as impossible to please- he'd been pulled out of the field and forced into desk-work in the prime of his career. Of course, he had taken it in stride, showing no disloyalty in the form of discontent. Instead, he took his frustrations out on his many, frequently retiring secretaries.

Lux had applied as a joke. She didn't actually think it was possible that she would be given the job without a Demacian on the inside to secure it (that was how they'd arranged the postal gig).

But, well... there weren't many applicants. Lux presented herself as soft-spoken (but firm), diligent, level-headed, and organized. But most importantly, she did not show the slightest interest in politics. She kept her head down, as a rule. She was merely biding her time before her turn in the draft. She was looking forward to it! This was the closest she could get to serving Noxus before the military pulled her name. _Honestly_ , all she really wanted was to be in Ionia.

...at least the last part was true!

And, well, she was small. Pretty, small, and unthreatening. He looked at her like prey, like the next thing to break. He had been looking forward to sending another weakling crying from his office.

But it turned out that Lux was pretty good at this.

So for two months, close to three, she answered his phone, brought him coffee in the morning, won the favor of the eerie black bird on his shoulder, and managed his calendar. After some time, she was asked to open his letters- a General was too busy to sort through his own mail, after all.

The Demacians had been furious. They nearly pulled her from the field on her first day before realizing it might tip off the Noxians.

And then, when she was granted access to the archives, they warmed up very quickly.

Someone stopped in front of her desk. Lux had been distracted, doodling spirals in the margins of her planner. Oops.

"Is there something I can do for you?" She forced a disinterested tone into her voice, glancing through her lashes at the lithe, dark haired man before her and snapping the planner shut. He looked uncomfortable in formal attire and his hair had been recently cut. His eyes didn't meet hers for more than a second, too busy surveying the room. Was this another spy? Maybe they could have tea sometime!

"I'm delivering a message for Swain." His voice was low and gruff. It might have been attractive, on a Demacian.

Lux raised her eyebrows, setting her pen down on the desk.

"From who?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Actually, it is." She flashed an unfriendly smile, all teeth. She wanted to seem threatening, impatient, rude. Like an actual Noxian! "Or else he would be sitting here to take his own messages."

The slim man grit his teeth and Lux looked boredly up.

" _Fine_." He looked like he wanted to hurt her. "Tell him that General DuCouteau has news."

"And you are...?" Her tone hinged just slightly on demanding. Every word seemed to irritate the stranger more.

"Someone he trusts." He snapped, slamming a hand against the desk and glaring openly at Lux. She didn't flinch. "What difference does it make?"

She was already reaching for the phone, and raised a finger to her lips in a clear command: Quiet. Talon's eyes narrowed.

"One of General DuCouteau's to see you. ...yes, how did you know?" She smirked up at Talon momentarily, and then looked back towards the phone, "Mhm. Just a moment, then."

Lux placed the phone in its receiver.

"Go right ahead." She tilted her head towards the closed door behind her desk.

* * *

Talon perched in a leather chair across from Swain, uncomfortable without a blade on his arm. He'd shut the door and a muffling spell of the General’s creation hung in the air; it was a common practice within the High Command, simply standard procedure.

"That girl has more of a backbone than your last one." They had finished discussing business, so he finally let himself sound irritated.

"Hm." Swain grunted. "A fine quality, as far as I'm concerned. I've had enough nonsense paraded through my doors- Boram made sure of that."

"I'm not worried about the Grand General, Swain."

He looked boredly at Talon and then glanced at the raven perched on the desk between them. Beatrice was preening. "Fine, fine. What are you getting at?"

"She's educated enough to do this job, no one has heard of her..." He rubbed his wrist where a blade should have been. "...and Katarina says she's seen eyes like hers before." He said the let part grudgingly, not wanting to admit to believing in conspiracy.

Swain's eyes narrowed. He stroked Beatrice’s head with two fingers in an unusually gentle gesture.

"What do you think is the greatest threat to Noxus today, Talon?" He asked abruptly. Talon leaned back. Nothing was ever abrupt with Swain, not really. He was calculating to the core.

"...I don't have time for this. The DuCouteaus are expecting my return," He was already halfway out of his seat, eager to escape what he thought might be a long lecture.

"Has that coward in the Grand General's seat convinced you that Demacia is an actual threat?"

Talon paused. What Swain had just said, and so casually, was an executable offense. 

Well, not executable. But he would have to duel for it, and what was a duel against a Darkwill but an execution?

"The girl out there is the only thing standing between me and another one of Boram's pawns. If I thought she were more a threat than the vultures he sent to read my notes, she would be gone." Swain paused, glancing idly at the cane against his desk.

"Besides, she makes better coffee than they did."

Talon blanched.

"What if she _is_ a spy?" He pressed.

"Then I can finally get some exercise." Swain waved a hand. Talon scowled.

"I'll inform General DuCouteau of your response." He said stiffly, glancing at the door.

"Excellent. Send Marilla in when you go."

Talon cast a suspicious gaze at Swain, but nodded before he left.

He passed the Demacian again on his way out, pausing momentarily at her desk. She was folding a bit of paper in no particular way, making smaller and smaller squares.

She didn't look like much. But, in Talon’s experience, the best never did.

"He wants to see you." He tapped the desk in front of Lux and, this time, she jumped a little. It was almost too... Deliberate.  
She shot him a disapproving gaze and rose to her feet. Talon had seen fear; she was not afraid.

"Thanks." She muttered, turning her back on him to walk through the doorway.

... _Thanks_? What the hell was Marilla playing at?

* * *

Lux felt her pulse rise as soon as she turned to shut the door. That was a mistake. A slip of the tongue- a completely understandable accident!

No one showed gratitude in Noxus, not in passing, not as a gesture of good upbringing or well-meaning or…

Oh god, was she going to die for being polite?

"You wanted to see me, sir?" She forced ease into her voice and smoothed down the front of her skirt, turning to look into the room. Swain was on his feet, leaning heavily against his cane.

“I did. Come, have a seat."

Instantly a bad sign. If he actually wanted something, he would just tell her so she could be out of his way. Was something wrong? Did that stranger say something?

...did he hear her say thanks? (Okay, that was a little paranoid.)

"Is there something you need?" She couldn't help sounding a little suspicious but crossed the room, settling silently into the leather chair Talon had just occupied. Swain remained standing.

"Yes, but that isn't important." He seemed to smile, but it was impossible to tell. "Are you familiar with General DuCouteau?"

_Why yes, I stole from his library, during my first week in Noxus! How **ever** did you know?_

"Not personally, sir. I know his house's legacy, of course." She knew more about Noxian aristocracy than she might have ever cared to. It was simply part of the job.

"Of course." He echoed. "That was Talon- his newest protege, as I understand. Though they have been keeping quiet about it." Lux remained silent. She could tolerate a lecture. Maybe he was just bored.

"He noticed something odd." _Oh no._ "How long have you been dying your hair, Marilla?"

"What?" She could handle this. It was a perfectly reasonable question- she wouldn't be alarmed if she didn't have anything to hide. “Oh. I thought it was more... Subtle. I don't know, a few years?”

Swain was unreadable. No news there.

"I see." He paused. He was giving her the opportunity to slip up, to say too much. She refused to take the bait.

"In any event, there are several things I'd like you to fetch from the archives, when you have the opportunity. Now would be best." He finally sat down, leaning the cane against his desk, and slid a sheet of paper across the wood.

Lux plucked it up between two fingers, glancing briefly at the names. "Would you like me to forward your calls, then?"

"No need. You won't be that long."

"As you say." Lux stood quickly, folding the square of parchment in her hands. "Ah- is there anything else, sir?"

He was staring at her. Just how much did he know?

"No, not for now."

* * *

There was a very tall person standing in front of her desk. Lux had to crane her neck to look at him properly, and even then found herself seeing more breastplate than face.

She could probably wrap herself three times in the width of his cloak.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Lux had made a rule of being polite to the larger ones, and the ones that came in armor. The grumpiest Generals usually shared either trait.

"I'm here to see Swain." He had a harsh, gravelly voice, and already seemed to be in an unpleasant mood.

"Do you have an appointment?" Lux knew that he didn't. She made most of them, after all.

Darius stared down at Lux. Lux looked boredly up at Darius.

"He's expecting me."

"Fair enough. Give me just a moment and I can check on that for you." She barely had the chance to lift her phone.

"I don't have time for this." He began to circle the desk, so Lux leapt out of her seat. She found herself standing between a very unhappy Noxian and the door to Swain's office.

Darius looked coldly down at her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"If you can _just_ give me your patience for a minute, I can see if General Swain has time for you." Her voice sped up, and she reached back to touch the frame of the door. She couldn't back down now, she'd look like a coward!

...Oh, dear, she was starting to think like one of them.

"I told you, he's expecting me." Darius growled, leaning down to look her in the eyes.

His breath was less than pleasant.

"Showing me what you had for lunch isn't going to make me open this door any faster, sir." Lux raised herself to full height.

Someone snorted behind her.

"Darius! I see you've met Marilla." Lux hadn't ever heard Swain sound so _friendly_. She turned slightly, finding herself mere inches in front him, and carefully sidled out from between the two. "She's right, you know. Was Ionia so dull that you have to pick fights with my secretary?"

Ionia? Lux perked up.

"...I didn't come here to waste our time, Swain."

"No, just to bully eighteen year olds. I understand."

( _Eighteen_! Hah.)

"You're one to talk." He looked pointedly at Swain- down a bit, Lux noticed. Maybe it was just the hunch from the cane.

"Fair, fair- Do come in. Marilla, you should join us for this. I know how interested you are in Ionia." Darius glanced skeptically at Lux.

What was Swain doing? Did he know? Was it a test? Or was he just commenting on her cover?

"Absolutely, sir, I would love to."

Well, even if he _did_ know, she couldn't pass up an opportunity like this.

* * *

"I take it you don't plan on eating this one." Darius looked skeptically across the table, more at the raven than at Swain.

"She does her job." He sounded immediately disinterested and made a point of arranging the papers on his desk.

"Explain something to me."

"Haven't I always?"

"Ha. When the master of spies is suspicious of your newest pet, why risk keeping her?"

Swain stared at Darius, unreadable.

"She makes very good coffee. You should try it."

"You would not overlook a spy outside your door for her skill as a barista."

"If I thought she was a spy, would I have let her overhear sensitive information about Ionia?"

Darius scowled. "That's another thing. She's too curious. Like a Piltovian- even I can see that."

"Is this all you came for, Darius?" Swain looked boredly across the desk. "To accuse me of being an idiot?"

"Your words, not mine." He leaned back in his seat, "...I know you don't want to be here. If you explain the girl's part in all this, I might be able to help."

"You're putting far too much weight on a pretty receptionist. Haven't I always told you exactly as much as you need to be aware of?"

For a moment, neither General was willing to break eye contact. Then, finally, Darius slid back his chair.

"Fine. Keep her. It isn't my problem." He stood easily in the heavy armor, glancing at the door. "I'll see you when I see you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that Swain isn't actually keeping Lux around for her coffee. (It just tastes better coming from a Demacian, you know?)
> 
> I kid, I kid. He doesn't know anything. Of course not.


	3. The Black Rose (Noxus: Round II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I've made some minor changes to dialogue throughout this chapter, mostly to rework Vlad so that he's balanced on the knife edge between stupidly punny asshole and legitimately frightening hemomancer.

Lux was in the archives. Oh, she'd been sent here, of course, she was nothing if not obedient. It was half the reason Swain kept her around.

She had two tomes gathered under one arm, dusty enough to make her nose itch. History, strategy- something like that. Lux had barely even read the bindings; they weren't important compared to the rune pages stowed in her purse. Each time the General sent her down here, she took the opportunity to borrow some books of her own... some by her superiors' requests, and some out of sheer curiosity. More often than not, she would be left alone to weave between the shelves and, even when she did have company, no one cared to speak to a mere secretary.

After all, anyone in her position was too weak or stupid to see battle, _weren't they?_

Months of the same routine had finally coaxed her guard down. So, when Lux heard a voice in the usually crypt-quiet archives and felt cold fingers touch her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

The person behind her laughed and the two books she'd been holding fell abruptly, landing with a harsh smack on the marble floor.

So much for quiet.

"He never mentioned you being so _jumpy_." 

Lux turned slowly, feeling her heart pound furiously for the interruption. Had he been following her? Had she not noticed?

"I thought I was alone." She managed, after a second of hesitation, and glanced at the scattered books. She didn't want to kneel in front of him to pick them up. It was stupid, but it was the Noxian thing to do.

(A Demacian would have already been on the floor to help her.)

"I can see that." He grinned, displaying two rows of eerily white teeth. "But now you have company. And I've been told I make for _delightful_ company." The man was dressed from head to toe in red and white robes, so Lux guessed he was a mage. He didn't look like any mages she had ever seen.

“Told by anyone who hadn't been working for you?" Lux muttered, making a point to turn away from the man before stooping to pick up her books.

He laughed. "Ahh, so _that’s_ why he likes you. Absolutely charming. You didn't need help with those, did you?" He leered down at her.

"Do I look like the kind of person that needs your help?" It was easy to summon up a glare. She rose to her feet quickly, ignoring the dust on her knees and making to exit the hall. Vladimir would tolerate no such thing, turning with a flourish to block her way and extending fingers capped with claw-like blades. "Now, now, don't be so cross. Jericho doesn't mind sharing his toys with me, I promise."

Every part of that sentence made her skin crawl. Vladimir closed the gap between them and dug his claws into the shelf behind her head, metal grinding into wood. Lux felt his robe brush against her legs. She was going to drop the books again, she was sure.

"I am _not_ a toy." She put forth her best effort to snarl up at Vladimir even as he leaned in. His finger- no, claw- traced down the line of her cheekbone, gently enough to keep from drawing blood.

"You are whatever we'd like you to be, my dear, haven't you learned that much?"

Lux's eyes widened and, for the first time in a very long while, she did something completely on impulse.

She shifted Swain’s books into one arm and, in one quick motion, drew back her hand and slapped.

Vladimir's pale cheek quickly began to turn red, and Lux bit her lip. Her palm was throbbing.

He took a step back and she pressed herself against the shelf, Swain's requests still secure under her left arm.

"You little _beast!_ " He moved too quickly for Lux to evade and dug his bladed fingers into the soft curve of her cheek. She felt blood dripping but didn't quite recognize the pain, adrenaline dulling everything but fear.

"Do not think for a moment that this taste has absolved you." His fingers came away bloody and Lux clasped a hand to the side of her face, feeling the sticky fluid bead up and roll down her neck. Vlad spared her one final, disgusted glance and turned on his heel, stalking furiously from between the shelves.

Lux noticed distantly that he did not leave any trace of her blood on the marble floor behind him.

* * *

"Your little errand girl attacked me." Vladimir pouted, sprawled languidly on the couch in Swain's office. The General had yet to claim either armchair opposite it, instead pacing quietly about the room. "And she is _horribly_ iron deficient. You should really feed your pets better."

"I don't keep hiring secretaries for you to drain them, Vladimir." Swain drawled.

"You don't?"

His tone was so honestly scandalized that Swain had to pause. He made a point of looking reproachful, but Vlad smiled nonetheless. "Not if they do their jobs."

"She can't do her job short a pint?" Vladimir extended a hand over the back of the couch, beckoning with one bladed finger. Swain didn't move, but the bird on his shoulder took off, securing its talons where the steel was strapped to Vlad's knuckle.

"You would let me taste her, wouldn't you, Beatrice?" He cooed at the raven in the same sickening way some Piltovians addressed their dogs. Swain looked less than amused.

"Enough. You've obviously had your taste. Now, was there any reason you came all this way?"

Vladimir's head finally revealed itself over the back of the couch.

"You wound me. Is visiting my dearest friend not an adequate excuse to travel?"

"Not across the sea."

Vlad snorted. "Fine. If you'd like the truth... These Ionians are boring. There's hardly any work with that filthy chemist leading the way." He was actually pouting. "Do you have any idea how tedious the march has become? It's all too simple.”

"What a terrible tragedy for you." Swain _may_ have been being sarcastic.

"It really is." He sighed dramatically and made a point of examining the tips of his claws. "My talents are so wasted abroad... Are you sure this one isn't hiding anything? I could easily check." He grinned.

"I am eventually going to become tired of that question." Swain frowned, and Vlad laughed. "Oh, I see. Does the great Tactician have a crush?"

Swain scowled.

"Oh, don't make that face. Beatrice knows I was kidding. Don't you?" Vlad began to make rather hideous kissy-faces at the raven. Beatrice turned her head. "Ugh, neither of you are any fun. It's _draining_ just to sit here." He finally sat up properly, waving the bird from his hand. "The Matron has missed you, by the way."

"So there was a point to this visit." Swain drawled.

"The point was the pleasure of your company!" Vladimir rose to his feet. "And to have a look at your little pet." Beatrice turned her head, eyeing the hemomancer sternly, "No, not you, darling."

"The Deceiver, Vladimir." Swain finally began to look impatient, turning to face him. "If she had news, let her speak with me personally."

"Who's to say she hasn't been?" The person in the red robes smiled at him.

* * *

Swain did not look happy.

"Vladimir tells me that you attacked him, Marilla."

Lux pressed the damp, black cloth more securely against her cheek, blood still seeping into the fabric. It was exhausting to maintain the act- she was in pain, of course, and a few short years ago she might have been able to run to her mother with these cuts and be coddled back to health.

Lux wanted to go home. Of course she wanted to go home! She wanted to be six years old again, to be swept into her mother's arms and to listen to her brave big brother make grand promises about felling whatever foul beast had wounded her.

Garen would have protected her.

Lux's eyes welled up, and there was nothing she could do to stop the reflex.

"I hit him." She confessed, casting her gaze away from Swain.

"Is there any particular reason you decided to do that?"

It was easier to keep her eyes from watering if she didn't look at him. She didn't want to see his disappointment, or scorn, or... More likely, nothing. Swain was nearly always unreadable.

"He was _touching_ me." Her voice shook: too weak to be taken seriously. "He shouldn't have cornered me." She added quickly, forcing spite into her warbly tone. It would be more believable if she seemed angry.

Honestly, Lux was still just scared.

"Perhaps not."

Swain's affirmation, though curt, gave her courage.

"I am not some- some _doll_ for him to play with." The words left her in a hiss and Lux had to bite her lip to keep from sobbing. Nothing would be more pathetic. Nothing would more quickly destroy her cover than to let him see her tears.

Swain watched Lux silently, waiting for her to crack. She drew in a slow breath and squared her shoulders, unyielding.

"I have to agree." He said finally, when it appeared she wouldn't break. His cane tapped softly against the marble floor as he rose to his feet. "If anyone else impedes you from doing your work, I expect you to respond the same way."

Lux was surprised enough to look up at the General, unable to mask the tears that finally sprung. It was the pain, that was all. Nothing to do with the fact that the first person to encourage her to stand up for herself was--

No, she couldn't afford to think like that.

"What?"

He was watching her closely, measuring every step and misstep.

"As my assistant, Marilla, you are an extension of me. Is that clear?" It wasn't any better, Lux thought, to be part of a butcher than to be one's toy.

"It is." She coughed, trying to mask the shaking of her voice. It was just the pain. If she believed it, maybe it would convince a Noxian.

"Good. And I am not to be trifled with." He had crossed over to Lux's side of the desk as she stared at her lap, and the sudden proximity made her flinch.

"Let me see it." Swain looked down at her and she stared up, slowly pulling the cloth away from her cheek. Her fingers were sticky with blood and her face was smeared in it, still as fresh as if the skin had just been torn.

"Are you in pain?"

Of _course_ she was in pain. She had been sitting at her desk for half an hour tending to the gashes before he'd even called her in.

"A little." She turned her face away, baring the wounds in their entirety. "I'll live."

Swain chuckled, a rough, grating sound like tires on gravel. "If I touch you, should I expect to be hit?" He sounded amused, almost fond. Lux shuddered, glancing up.

"It's alright." She wasn't sure why she said that, but Swain pressed his one free hand to her cheek nonetheless. His touch dragged a whimper from her throat- the cuts were deep, deeper than she wanted to consider, and his palm was rough against them.

"Some in this city believe," He cleared his throat, "That scars exist to remind us of our failures." Lux recognized heat before she sensed the magic trickling from Swain's palm into her cheek. The light it let off was a sickly green in her periphery and she could feel the skin twisting on her face, pulling taut over the gashes Vlad had opened. "You haven’t failed me yet." The surge of magic was cut off as abruptly as it had come and he pulled his hand away, slick with blood. Beatrice's eyes were unusually bright, and Lux could have sworn the bird was watching her. "Did you get the books?"

She nodded quickly, raising a hand to her cheek to feel the smooth, new skin. "I can bring them at once."

"Good. And wash your face." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'How to Succeed in Noxus Without Really Trying', a self-help book by Vladimir.


	4. Ionia (Starting with a Bang)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably deserve to go to hell for making a pun about melters in the title, right? Right. Glad we're in agreement there.
> 
> A quick note on how this work is going to progress- I have three more chapters of this in storage that I abandoned mostly by accident. Thing is, they're a year old at this point and need some TLC, so I can't actually promise they'll be out in a reasonable timeframe.
> 
> And another quick note on the direction I'm taking with Noxus/Demacia and Valoran: Most, or more likely all, of this fic will be set during the occupation of Ionia. So, if you're looking for a positive spin on Noxus, you might want to sit this one out. Especially as we go into chapters directly dealing with Ionia. Any 'not all Noxians' sentiments aside, the war itself is horrific and there's really no getting around that without retconning everything we know. Consider this fair warning.

She shouldn't have been surprised to find the healer there.

Lux had been sent to Ionia, finally _,_  as a messenger. After years of hoping, years of climbing the ranks with the gnawing need to do _something_ , to really, physically help- it was a joke. A nasty, cruel, practically _Noxian_ joke that she was here under these circumstances.

After years of an almost peaceful standstill, Boram's forces had begun to move on the north. It seemed the perfect excuse, to Lux, for Demacia to intervene in earnest. They could stop hiding now, stop the business of theft and infiltration and just send in the troops, for god's sake! Noxus's supply lines had to be stretched, mutiny was brewing in the capital, and now this? The Institute had not agreed to this.

But Demacia didn't send an army, and the Institute was silent still. Lux was neither a general nor politician and so she had no say in the matter. When she was called to Ionia, she had been hopeful. Years in Noxus had given her command over spells so terrible and powerful that their mechanisms had been locked away since the Rune Wars. She'd read the tomes herself, she could recite them all by heart, and there she was:

Being asked to send messages.

Being sent to warn people- innocent people- away from their towns before the melters came. So there she was. Luck had brought her to an outpost at the edge of the war zone ( _oh, to call it a war zone, what a sick joke_ ). This was the next target, or so she'd been told. ( _Leave it to Noxians to bomb the sick and injured._ ) She was supposed to have a two hour window. It wasn't much, but she'd worked with less before.

Everyone she spoke to on the way directed her to a surprisingly small, patchwork building near the center of the place. There hadn't ever been a proper town here, so the outpost was merely a temporary setup of tents and wood buildings in the middle of a much larger forest, housing those too weak to retreat any further from the front. Lux merely had to push aside a strip of cloth that served as a door to stride inside, and was immediately hit with a smell not unlike rot. Empty beds around the single room indicated either that some in recovery had left on foot or that the dead had been moved outside.

Considering the smell, Lux would bet on the latter. There was only so much one healer could do, even of Soraka's rising fame. She had taken to a knee beside one of the sickbeds. Her hands were laid over a man's chest, applying no pressure and emitting a faint green glow, and she had closed her eyes to concentrate far before Lux entered.

Lux allowed herself to stare, treading quietly into the room. She clutched the letter at her side and her palm sweat into the scroll.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." She stopped a fair distance from the bed and bowed her head to take down her hood, "But it's urgent."

Soraka glanced up, nodded, and directed her eyes back to the unconscious man. Lux stood still and silent for several seconds, clasping her hands together at her belt to keep from fidgeting. When Soraka pulled back her hands, they came away bloodied, but the wounded man coughed several times and opened up his eyes, moving before she placed a hand firmly on his shoulder to keep him still.

"I won't save you again if you dislodge that rib. You will _have_ to be still for the next few hours for it to set." She had a stern, biting way of speaking that immediately set Lux on edge. She hadn't known what to expect from Soraka, but this wasn't a promising start.

"O-Okay." He coughed again, and a spurt of blood dribbled down his chin.

"And _do not_ speak!" She sighed, exasperated, and finally looked back at Lux. "Whatever news you have, can you relay it outside?"

Lux stared, wide-eyed, and nodded mutely.

"Good. This is a place for rest- come along." She passed Lux on her way out, forcing her to follow. "I'm afraid our resources are too limited to hold any more refugees here, if you've been sent for that."

Lux hadn't noticed the hooves until they were outside and found herself struggling not to stare.

"No, that isn't... That isn't it, ma'am. Here-" She produced the letter and Soraka took it carefully from her hands. It was easier this way, to just let her read the news. Lux still hated trying to explain her coming, no matter how many times she had before.

"How much time?" She crumpled the paper in her hands and it lit up abruptly, disintegrated in a burst of light.

"Two hours, maybe less. With respect, we need to start moving now." Lux took a breath. "I've done this before, that's why they sent me. I can guide you through it- we have enough time."

"Whatever you need, I will lend my aid." She nodded, casting her gaze to the tents around.

"How many do you think can walk?"

"Under the circumstances, most will."

"How quickly can you call a meeting?"

* * *

 

"The Noxians are less than three miles out. Intelligence suggests that they won't breach the front for this- which can only mean one thing." Horrible as it was, Lux was glad to have an audience of refugees. There would be no explaining what to expect, no wailing children, no families together that made her ache of home. The men and women here had already been touched by Noxus. This was not new.

"If I see anyone retreat to their tent, they will be left behind." She saw a few people frown, "We don't have time to save family photos right now. If you're able enough to help carry someone else, stay with us. Everyone else, go north until you reach the next road, and keep going. We can't be sure how far the Noxians plan to extend."

Lux stepped down from the small box that had served as a platform and watched as most of the crowd disbursed, men and women retreating into the wood without question. They had already been close enough to the front to understand urgency and did not stop, did not hesitate, did not glance back at their tents. _Good_. Lux felt a weight come off her shoulders- she wouldn't have to explain war to anyone here. She barely understood it herself.

Soraka kept a watchful eye on those remaining in the crowd. It was a small group- two dozen, at most- more able men and women than those unable to rise to their feet. She sighed softly, grateful for their fortune.

Lux was counting heads, all the while. "Do you think we can ask them to pair off? We'll move more slowly this way, but..." She looked uncertainly at Soraka, as if she might have a better idea. They were crippling themselves by refusing to abandon their wounded, but...

They looked at each other, saying nothing but understanding all the same. They wouldn't leave anyone behind. The idea was too horrible to consider.

"How much time do we have?" Lux gazed southward. She couldn't see anything yet but, then, they wouldn't. Not until it was too late.

"We can take ten minutes, I think, without cutting it too close." She looked uncertainly at Soraka. "What do you want to do?"

"I may yet be able to bring some of them to their feet. Find me when our time is up." She wove easily into the crowd- people stepped aside to yield to her in the same uncertain manner Lux herself had felt the need to. No one would take a celestial for granted here. Lux heaved a sigh and sat down on the box, fiddling with the book at her side. It was a small thing, strapped onto her belt, but having her hands on the leather binding calmed her. She didn't need to read it- she knew the words by heart. 

_Victory for our allies, defeat for our enemies, and Justice for all._

Why couldn't it be so simple?

She thumbed through the pages for a few spare minutes, head bowed as if in prayer. All of her doubts about her early enlistment, her placement as a spy, her lost childhood-- they had all dissolved when she was called to Ionia. Lux was certain, somehow, that she was needed here.

And then she heard the thunder.

It wasn't a storm, but it always sounded that way in the beginning, from whatever mechanism they used to drop the bombs. Lux's chest tightened- they were supposed to still have _time_. An hour still, at least. Slowly, afraid to confirm what she already knew, she looked up towards the sky.

There was chaos in the camp. Everyone had heard the noise, and the dark green light bursting in the distance boded no better. They were out of time. Singed wouldn't make a poison that could be outrun.

And Lux, well... Lux froze.

No one had prepared her for this, she had never _really_ been to war, and... She wasn't meant to be here. Even if she were stupid enough to stand and fight, what would it end in but her death and her city being dragged fully into the conflict?

"I have _**never**_ seen such a quick two hours." Soraka was standing over her. How was she supposed to explain this?

"W-We were wrong. We must have gotten it wrong, I'm so sorry, I don't..." For the first time in years, Lux actually felt her age.

"I don't know what to do." There, it was out. She hadn't been trained for this, the only idea coming to mind was to teleport and she could not take twenty Ionians with her.

But she couldn't _leave_ them there!

The smoke was rolling in too quickly. Even outside the melter's area of impact, Lux felt a cough rise in her throat and bent forward to give into it, covering her mouth with both hands. When she pulled them away, there was blood. Of  _course_ there was blood.

They were out of time.

Lux wiped her palms on her pants and drew in a shaky breath. She extended her hands blindly in front of her and was still able to throw out a shield. It shimmered on its way to the crowd and caught each Ionian in turn, creating a sparkling, golden barrier over their heads. It did nothing for the pain already in Lux's chest and she coughed again, spitting up more blood. The shield flickered.

Soraka put both hands onto her shoulders and Lux felt a forceful magic coursing through her, curling somewhere in her lungs to close whatever wounds the noxious poisons had created.

" _Come closer_!" The celestial's voice rang clearly above the din, amplified by fear as well as magic. "We stand as one!"

It would be easier to maintain the shield in a smaller area. It was smart- Soraka was smart. Lux kept her arms extended and fed mana to the spell, feeling herself weaken every second that it hung above their heads. The awful poison was upon them now, held at bay only by her glowing barrier. Dropping it was death.

"We need to start moving _._ " Lux found her voice with a whimper, tearing her concentration for the moment it took to glance at Soraka standing over her. "I can't- I can only hold it so long." The healer nodded, looking at the crowd. They were close enough to make out faces now- some panicked, some angry, and some even resigned.

"Can you hear her?" She asked calmly, one hand still clasped to Lux's shoulder. "We'll move together. As quickly as you can, do not step outside the barrier."

They moved. Lux kept herself at the back of the group, refreshing the shield in front of her whenever it began to weaken. The forest outside was fully obscured by green smoke, so thick as to be opaque. Just as she felt her knees begin to weaken, Soraka swept her up into her arms, walking for the two of them as so many of the veterans ahead supported their wounded. The shield was failing by the moment, intensity fading until it was barely translucent where it hung overhead.

More than anything, she wanted to close her eyes. To let it just be _over._

"Here, Lux."

Soraka whispered and Lux felt her mana restored, so suddenly potent that it threatened to burst, unbidden, from her fingertips. She channelled it into the shield around the crowd and it surged to life again, golden and luminescent.

They remained like that for what felt like a century: the Starchild fed her mana to let her maintain her barrier until the green smoke and thunder were behind them. Until finally, with the moon high above their heads, Lux let herself fade.


	5. Ionia (Round II)

The village was shockingly quiet, far enough from the front to be considered safe. It was the farthest north Lux had ever been and anxiety was like a living thing inside her, buzzing through her bones and making her hands shake. Stories of her intervention and Soraka's aid had travelled quickly, though her allegiance hadn't spread so far. Demacia still hadn't openly intervened, so it was safer that her tale be spread as that of another heroic Ionian's. (There was no lack of heroic Ionians, Lux had come to learn.)

The silence here unsettled her. She had too recently been in the thick of war to imagine peace, and it made her feel like a sailor back from a long journey at sea. After living amidst the waves for so long, solid ground made her stomach churn.

She was guided by the layout of the village to its most central temple and nudged open the great stone door, which yielded without so much as a creak. Everything was much too quiet here. Even the breeze barely rustled the leaves.

"Sir?" Lux kept her voice down to a whisper, afraid of upsetting the still, and reached out to touch the shoulder of a man in long, plain robes, his back turned to her. He had a slim, weathered face and a beard halfway down his chest, and he smiled at Lux as he turned to see her. "I'm very sorry to bother you. I've been sent to find the Duchess Karma?"

"Ah, very well." A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Have you travelled far?"

Of course. Without any disguise, Lux looked nothing like a native. She blushed. "Far enough, sir."

"Perhaps you would like to rest a moment before you confer with her." He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "It may do you good to seek your peace." 

Lux's hands still trembled, and she couldn't seem to steady them. She shook her head and smiled at the man, by way of apology. "With respect, I don't think... There isn't enough time in the world for that." 

To her surprise, the monk chuckled.

"Give it a few years, child." The word sounded soft, not condescending, on his tongue. Perhaps it was his age, or the aura of peace that seemed to radiate from him. "She should be beyond the furthest doors. I trust you'll find your way."

"Thank you." Lux forced herself to smile and proceeded, tense with nerves. Maybe she _should_  stop and meditate, she thought. What harm would a few more hours do? 

She took a left and followed a long sequence of hallways, each branching without any indication of their end. There were alcoves here and there, some occupied by still and silent monks, and rows of windows opened to a still garden in the center of the temple. The whole structure was actually circular, Lux realized, and she quickly began to wonder whether she might accidentally loop all the way around. Fortune favored her, however, for as she reached the back of the temple she found a simple wooden door.

It didn't feel right to just barge in. But two quick raps of her knuckles against the wood disrupted the peace and she regretted them immediately, shrinking a little where she stood. A beautiful, dark-skinned woman in ornate robes opened the door in time to see Lux standing there with the nervous posture of a schoolgirl expecting to be scolded. 

Karma raised her brow. Lux's heart sped up again.

"My Lady, I, ah..." She took a steadying breath, leaning closer to the doorway and lowering her voice. "I've come a very long way to ensure your safety-- can we speak privately?" It was a paranoid urge, but Lux had learned never to underestimate the Noxians. If Karma were in danger, they could very easily have had a mole in the temple already.

She glanced over Lux's shoulder and nodded, stepping aside to let her through the open door. Lux closed it as soon as she was through and pressed her palms against it, closing her eyes while she wove a muffling spell. Glistening, golden strands unwound from her fingertips, wrapping around the walls until they crossed like a wide net. When she lowered her hands, the web of light shimmered into nothing, invisible against the stone.

"So, are the rumors true? You do speak like a Demacian." Karma crossed her arms, having watched her cast the spell in silence. The question caught Lux far enough off-guard that she cringed, glancing over her shoulder through blonde fringe.

 "It really would be better if I weren't. On the record." 

"Yes, I suppose it would be, for your city." Karma's lips quirked with something like disdain, "But any aid is better than none. It's disappointing to see exactly how pointless a venture your Institute was, in that regard."

Lux grew sheepish again, turning to fully face the older mage and letting a sigh drag down her shoulders. "I know. I know, I'm sorry- we're doing everything we can, I swear."

She didn't mention that the Institute was at least as old as she was, or speak to how little say she had in Demacia's intervention. Even if she'd had the courage to chide someone like Karma, it wouldn't have felt right.

"As are we all." She smoothed the creases from her sleeves, watching Lux with thinly veiled distrust. "What were you really sent here for? I can't imagine your King offering a formal apology." 

"He... I don't have the authority to speak for His Highness, ma'am."

"It was merely a joke. I've been told that people do make those, in Demacia." Karma smiled just long enough for Lux to know she wasn't being tricked, and it loosened the knot in her chest.

"Of course, I'm sorry, it's been such a long way, and I," Lux took a breath, "Really, I already should have explained why I'm here. We think the Noxians may have men behind your lines. Specifically, we've gleaned that they may be targeting you. Along with many of the Elders, leaders of Monastic orders... Really, there are too many to list."

To Lux's surprise, Karma seemed to consider her potential assassination. As if it were so trivial. As if it were a dinner option at a fine event. (Chicken, or fish?) 

"Of course. It would be easier for them that way, would it not? I believe the exact term is 'divide and conquer'." She laughed without any trace of mirth. "And you were sent to deliver a warning?"

Lux longed for the comfort of a staff. She clasped her hands behind her back and looked nervously up at Karma.

"And also as a bodyguard, my Lady. If you'll have me."

Karma raised her eyebrows.

"How noble." Now she looked truly amused. "I mean no offense, but you don't particularly seem the type to serve in any sort of guard."

Lux blushed, leaning back onto her heels. "It would be sort of obvious to send a big, burly fellow, wouldn't it?" She smiled sheepishly. "I swear I'm stronger than I look."

"Well, I certainly hope so. Regardless, I would have to be a fool to refuse aid at a time like this. I don't imagine you have any idea of _when_ the Noxians will come to kill me, do you?"

* * *

 

Lux kept a rotating schedule in the weeks that followed, remaining awake while Karma slept and sleeping in the few hours when she was safe, surrounded by the monks. It left them with a very small window to socialize, particularly given the hours Karma would spend in meditation. She frequently invited Lux to join her, who always joked that she was just no good at it. Really, she was having a hard time even sleeping these days. Years away from home had set her on edge, and her close encounter with Singed's work had hardly helped.

Nonetheless, she savored the days away from the front, even if half of them were spent sitting quietly in the dark, waiting for someone or thing to come for Karma. She was surprisingly at ease with Lux's close guard- she didn't seem the slightest bit shy, and went about her daily routine without comment to the young Demacian trailing after her like a lost duckling.

It was no surprise that, by the time that crucial night came, Lux felt calm and lazy in the dark, resting on her knees in a corner of the room to see the window, bed, and door. She had long ago abandoned the idea of actually accomplishing anything in the long eight hours, and instead shifted her eyes occasionally from the entrances to Karma's slumbering form. 

She had no trouble staying awake, already accustomed to sleeping in the daytime. So, when the window creaked softly to swing open and a dark form lowered one lithe leg into the room after another, Lux was alert enough to make out the mop of red hair cascading down the assassin's back, along with the large daggers that glistened in the moonlight from her belt.

She held her breath and summoned magic to her fingertips, combining two spells to cast over Karma like a blanket: one, a physical barrier, and the other, the same invisibility that came to her on instinct.

The shield settled without so much as a glimmer of light and Lux felt pride surge in her chest. She would catch this woman off-guard. She would bring her, fully bound, to the exact leaders she had been sent to kill, and Ionia could decide her trial. 

It felt like _justice_.

The assassin drew a dagger more quickly than Lux could blink and didn't hesitate, crossing the room in five quick steps and sinking her blade into...

Thin air.

The first spell didn't break; the shield refused to bend, but it flickered immediately into vision, casting a soft golden light onto the intruder's scarred face. 

Katarina glared down at Karma as if expecting her to wake and whirled around in time to see Lux rise to her feet. She shot out a stolen binding spell, sickly purple with corruption, but it impacted solidly with the wall behind the spot Katarina had just occupied. 

"Karma, wake--!" She took a step forward and felt warm breath on the back of her neck.

The assassin pressed a blade firmly to her jugular and so she stilled, heart leaping into her throat.

"You don't look Ionian." Katarina kept her voice to a low murmur and Lux grit her teeth, fixing her gaze on Karma's sleeping form. "Tell you what... Drop the shield, and I'll leave you alive. I didn't come to kill a child."

(A child?)

_Left alive_? So that she could be dragged back to Noxus in shame? Lux straightened her back. 

"I don't negotiate with Noxians." It seemed like a very stupid policy, now that she had a knife to her throat. 

Katarina shrugged. "Not my problem."

Lux braced herself for the pressure of the blade and felt a burst of wind billow across her skin instead. The dagger fell with a clamor to the ground and Katarina growled under her breath, setting her eyes on Karma as she rose swiftly from the bed.

Lux whirled to face the assassin again, but she was gone as quickly as she'd come, the window yawning open in her wake.

Karma hummed under her breath, looking Lux up and down.

"I hope you understand, I don't expect anyone to die for me."

Lux could still hear blood rushing through her ears. "I-I know. I wasn't planning to."

Karma stared at her searchingly and Lux looked back: wide-eyed and trembling and _small_. Without even a weak illusion to make her look like an adult. 

 

* * *

Lux was fifteen, and a late-bloomer, and no one but a Noxian had voiced any complaints about that yet. It hadn't taken long for Karma to determine that neither of them could rest after the attack, so they crept through the sleeping temple together, taking shelter in a kitchen that occupied one hidden corner of the building. There, to Lux's consternation, Karma insisted on putting a kettle on herself, waving off her shaky-handed attempts to intervene.

(Nearly three years ago, she would have turned up her nose to the idea of serving anyone, but there seemed something _wrong_ with watching Karma do it. And, besides, Lux hardly felt like a Lady anymore.)

When the tea finally sat steeping, Karma rested her back against the counter. Still wearing a thin nightshift with a dressing gown thrown over it, she seemed a different person than the Duchess that Lux had been sent to protect. She was more open, perhaps, or somehow softer.

Lux didn't have much time to linger on the thought. She had only just begun to let her gaze wander about the cupboards when Karma's voice broke in, clear and calm despite the hour of the night.

"You told me that Demacia had sent you." 

She blinked, drawing her attention from a larder. "Yes," She said, trying to divine her meaning from the expression on her face. The simple question didn't match the discord there- it clearly meant more to Karma than it had to Lux.

"Your superiors must have a great deal of faith in your performance, then," She continued, and even as Lux nodded she felt a discomfort twisting in her gut as if she were being led into a trap.

"How many years have you served them?"

It was another innocuous question, but asked with an inflection that made Lux pause. Karma was suspicious of something- she knew that much- but, as she worried her lip between her teeth, she couldn't quite discern it.

"Two and a half, I think?" She offered, counting back the months, "Or a little more."

Karma's expression grew more conflicted, brow twisting with concern, and Lux was blank. Like an plain white page, waiting to be written on. As if she couldn't imagine what question would come next.

(Or as if she'd blocked it out.)

"And how old are you, exactly?"

_Oh._

Of course, it _would_ be a Noxian's comment to come back to bite her- what had the assassin called her, 'child'? As if she weren't grown. She had to be, of course. She was just quicker at it than most other children; she'd sprouted up in magic and intelligence if not in shape or stature, and that had been enough. Of course it was enough.

"Twenty?" She offered, a lie that wouldn't have been convincing even with the proper confidence behind it. Karma, to her credit, didn't laugh, steadying a determined gaze on Lux even as she raised her eyebrows at the answer.

And Lux waited. She'd learned, at least, not to talk and talk to give away her lies.

"I would sooner have believed eighteen," She said sternly, a biting tone reminiscent of what a wizened teacher might use to scold her students.

Lux flinched, giving herself away. She hadn't been prepared for this set of lies- or to lie to Karma at all- and it felt impossible to summon up anything convincing now that her first attempt had failed. It didn't help that she felt heavy even in her bones: that the spent adrenaline that had driven her to protect Karma was now slogging in her veins.

"I won't be angry," Karma said gently, trying another tactic now. "I only want to know the truth."

_The truth?_

And what was that? That she had been snatched out of her home to do exactly what she'd been doing in the past three months? That she'd been born and raised in the shadow of a war that grew uglier for every day she spent in training? That every time she'd argued or refused they repeated _Ionia_ to her until it became a prayer, a promise she'd whisper to herself that what she'd sacrificed would mean something?

No- the truth. That she hadn't sacrificed at all. That they had dragged her by tooth and nail in spite of all her petty arguments. That the first lesson of her adolescence had been that she had no choice at all.

"Lux, are you alright?"

Karma was staring at her differently, all wrong, with a pity that she hadn't done anything to earn.

"No, I- Yes, I'm okay," She stammered, blinking until her eyes stopped being glassy. "I'm okay," She said again. It was an even worse lie than her first one. 

Karma paused, letting the falsehood hang between them without calling it out.

"How old are you?" She repeated patiently.

Lux wet her lips and clasped her hands behind her back. 

"Fifteen?" She offered softly, like a question. It barely took a second for Karma's gaze to harden, anger leading in her eyes before she turned them away from Lux.

"I really am," She spoke again, cheeks going pink with embarrassment as she misinterpreted the fury for distrust. "I'd just turned thirteen, when I started- I'm not lying, I promise."

It felt endlessly important that Karma would believe her, but belief didn't seem to make her any happier. She turned back to the teapot, though Lux spotted tension in her jaw before her face was turned away.  

It felt like she'd done something wrong. She stewed in that sensation until the spent leaves were disposed of and a warm cup was pressed into her hand, Karma murmuring in agitation all the while.

"You were prepared to die," She raised her voice again and, as it rang out clearly, Lux shrunk where she stood.

 "I didn't die," If Karma heard her timid interruption, she gave no sign of it, "Your King  _refused us_ the charity of a trained cavalry, but he has no qualms with sending children into battle?"

A hundred retorts sprang to Lux's tongue.

_I'm not a child._

_They trained me perfectly well._

_Ionian children have already seen battle- what makes **me** so special?_

So many excuses, and none in her own voice.

Lux went mute instead of arguing, cradling her little teacup and staring at the steam. Even if her circumstances upset Karma, there wasn't any changing them. She was already here- and she would die before deserting. 

"He has no _right,"_ Karma continued, in level, heavy words, "There are already too many children suffering this war without your superiors sending fledgling mages into it." 

Lux wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to say. She couldn't very well condemn her King, or complain about her station. Her hands curled tight around her teacup and she shrunk a little where she stood, leaning back against the counter and drawing her shoulders low and in, like a boxer bracing to be hit.

Karma noticed, naturally. She made a tsking sound under her breath and sighed, disciplined enough to keep from pacing.

 "Did you volunteer for this?" She was familiar, at least, with that. The idea of heroism tended to drive untested students in any combative art- she had seen swordsmen more appropriately called 'boys' charge out against the Noxians against all recommendation. She had heard of children becoming frustrated with the complacency of their elders in regions under long-fought occupation, and running to their deaths as a result. She understood that much. 

But Lux fell worrisomely silent, struggling with herself over a lie. It wasn't out of some treasonous resentment; no, she simply didn't believe she had the _right_ to say she'd come of her own free will.

Because she hadn't. They had to force her when they shouldn't have. She should have been better- she should have been truly good. If she had been good, she would have come enthusiastically. If she had been good, she wouldn't wish so badly she were home. 

But she wasn't, and she hadn't been. She'd fought for all the wrong things, she'd been resentful, she'd even hated the adults around her, for a time. She'd done all of those things while Ionia continued to burn, and Karma even _said_  that there were other children in the war but she had thought herself so _special_ \- so much better-

" _Alright_ ," Karma's voice softened as Lux's breath hitched in her throat. A small clink echoed in the kitchen- Karma set down her cup, and was taking Lux's from her hands- and she made quiet shushing sounds that nearly drowned it out. "It's over; it's alright. I'm not angry with you."

No amount of gentle murmuring would make her feel any bit better, but Karma's arms were soft enough around her to be mistaken for a mother's and- 

And that didn't help at all, really. It only made Lux's crying more pathetic, as she breathed in quick, short breaths and tried to remember why she was even here. 

"Shh, Lux," What reassurance she could give was mostly meaningless- she repeated that it wasn't Lux's fault, assured her of good conduct, and even thanked her for protection, but none of it soothed the gnawing guilt that had brought the crying on. Even if Karma could have gathered that she hadn't 'volunteered', Lux didn't have the courage to admit that she had fought it.

Every Demacian complicit in her deployment had convinced her that her reluctance was something deplorable, something selfish, something _**evil**_ and she couldn't stand to let another person think of her that way. She didn't know how to explain that she thought of herself that way. And more than anything, as selfish as it was, she couldn't let Karma know something so shameful.

So she cried until she was all wrung out, and begged Karma not to tell. She didn't have to pretend to be pathetic; winning sympathy was easy.

The only difficult thing was saving face for the remainder of her stay. But Lux had done difficult things before. She'd ventured behind Noxian lines, even slipped into the High Command.  

In comparison, this was child's play. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple quick notes about characterization in this chapter:
> 
> A friend of mine has an intriguing interpretation of Katarina that isn't all kill-kill-stab-stab-evil, and I pulled from that somewhat to give her the idea that killing a child without being ordered to would be distasteful. 
> 
> As for Lux's appearance and why she's picked out as adolescent (or younger) by Karma and Kat but not, for instance, by members of the High Command, I imagine that her disguise to fit into the Noxian landscape would have involved aging her up enough to be believable. However, it isn't worth expending magic constantly while she's in the company of allies, so that sort of guise wouldn't be up around Karma in this chapter. Or Soraka in the previous one, for the record.


End file.
